


Really, This Is What You Do?

by anonymous_dragon



Series: Mark of the Soul [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Here's your sequel, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, fluff?, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_dragon/pseuds/anonymous_dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Do You Understand What You Do to Me?</p><p>Gabriel is holding Castiel to a deal that Castiel wasn't even entirely aware they had made. Castiel better figure out a way to break it to Dean before Gabriel takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really, This Is What You Do?

**Author's Note:**

> I, of course, don't own these characters or Supernatural. Oh, and Omahksoyisksiksina is an actual legend, but I took some liberties with it.
> 
> Sequel to Do You Understand What You Do to Me?

“All right, little bro, I held up my end of the bargain,” Gabriel grinned. “It’s your turn now.” Castiel blinked.

“As I recall, this ‘bargain’ you’re speaking of was made to prevent you from having to uphold your end.”

“Now, Cassie, don’t be like that. A deal’s a deal, and now you’ve gotta do your part.”

“Gabriel, I do not believe—”

“Castiel!” Gabriel cut in with a feigned scandalous expression. “Wouldn’t it be _logical_ to simply tell Dean? Who knows, he might figure it out, too, if he starts seeing your  
wings.” Gabriel paused. “Actually, he could just be the dud I think he is and never figure it out, but that’s beside the point. Tell him.”

“Gabriel—”

“Cassie, don’t make _me_ be the one to break it to him. I will if I have to, but,” Gabriel let his voice fade away with a shrug.

“You wouldn’t,” Castiel said with widened eyes.

“Oh, but, Cassie, I would,” Gabriel sing-songed. Castiel sighed.

“You win, Gabriel. I’ll tell him.”

***

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted, appearing beside the man. Dean jumped slightly, fumbling with his toothbrush.

“Dammit, Cas, haven’t I already told you this? Personal space, man,” Dean grumbled.

“I apologize,” Castiel said, taking a couple steps back. “Dean, there’s something I need to—”

“Dean,” Sam called from outside the bathroom. “I got it.”

“Great, Sammy,” Dean said, coming out of the bathroom. “What’re we up against?”

“An _Omahksoyisksiksina._ ”

“Omakavoskisina?”

“ _Omahksoyisksiksina._ They’re a creature from Blackfoot legend. It roughly translates to ‘horned serpent.’ They live in rivers and lakes and eat people. They can shapeshift,  
so they’ll look human.”

“How do we know if someone’s an omah—a horned serpent?”

“They will apparently ‘bleed from the mouth at the sound of a Thunder Bird pipe.’”

“A Thunder Bird pipe?”

“It’s this sacred instrument they used to give to the Blackfoot.”

“Awesome. How do we kill them?”

“Electricity.”

“Awesome. So, where do we get a Thunder Bird pipe? I wanna fry this son of a bitch.”

“I believe I may be able to help,” Castiel spoke, walking out of the bathroom, before disappearing. Sam gave Dean a glance, but Dean didn’t see.

“Uh, thanks, Cas.”

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Castiel answered, already back with a brown wooden pipe with faded black patterns inked onto it.

“So, that’s it?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“Awesome, thanks, man,” Dean grinned, taking the pipe from Sam. Castiel watched with a clouded look in his blue eyes as the Winchesters grabbed their weapons and headed out.

***

“I take it you didn’t tell him?” Gabriel asked, though it was less a question and more a statement. Castiel shook his head.

“The Winchesters … it wasn’t a good time.”

“It never is, Cassie.”

“They’re facing an _Omahksoyisksiksina._ ”

“Fascinating. I wish them luck. I still don’t see why you didn’t tell him.”

“I … they were occupied.”

“Father, Cassie, that makes it sound like they’re Port-a-Pots.” Gabriel’s nose scrunched at the prospect. “That’s just weird.”

“I was not implying that they were portable restrooms.”

“I know, but it still sounded that way.”

“Gabriel—”

“My question is why aren’t you helping them in the fight? _Omahksoyisksiksina_ travel in pods of five or six, don’t they?”

“They do?”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re not as pagan-saavy as I am. C’mon. Let’s go save our Winchesters.”

“Dean is not mine, Gabriel,” Castiel protested. _If angels could blush,_ Gabriel thought, _he’d be red._

“True. It seems more like you’re his.” With that, Gabriel disappeared on silent wings. Castiel soon followed with a flutter of feathers.

***

“Thanks again for your help,” Sam said to Gabriel and Castiel, his weary smile widening at Gabriel. Gabriel winked.

“No problem, Sammikins.”

“Oh, get a room,” Dean grumbled. Sam stared at his brother. “What? You thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Well, with your absolute blindness, we did,” Gabriel replied.

“Blindness? I’m not blind,” Dean objected.

“And just in case your inability to see is contagious, I think Sammy and I will get that room.” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and he and Sam were gone.

“I’m not blind, right, Cas?”

“O-of course not, Dean. Gabriel was only jesting.”

A small piece of paper appeared before Dean and Castiel. Castiel immediately knew it was from Gabriel. _By the way,_ it read, _don’t forget to tell him, Cassie._ Sur enough, at the bottom, it was signed by Gabriel in a swirling, elegant script.

“Tell him? Does that mean me? Tell me what?”

“Nothing, it’s just Gabriel being Gabriel, that’s all,” Castiel said. Another note appeared. _Stop lying, Cassie. Tell him. (And, yes, by “him” I mean you, Dean.)_

“Cas, what’s he talking about?”

_Tell him, Cassie. Or I will~_

“Dean, I, uh …”

“Cas?”

Castiel sighed and shrugged out of his trench coat, moving to remove his shirt. Dean’s brow furrowed, and he seemed to want to say something, but Castiel sent him a look, and Dean shut his mouth. Castiel took off his shirt and turned around, spreading his wings away from his back. Dean’s jaw dropped as he saw _Dean W._ written between Castiel’s shoulders.

“Cas …”

“It’s my name that is written on your arm, Dean.”

“Uh …”

Before Dean could say anything, Castiel was gone.

“Dammit, Cas.”


End file.
